


Obsidian Heart

by sweetmusings



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Albus Dumbledore Bashing, Albus Dumbledore Being an Asshole, BDSM, D/s, Dark Hermione Granger, Dark Magic, Edgeplay, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Flashbacks, Harry Potter Bashing, Knifeplay, Lots of flashbacks but it is worth it, Manipulative Albus Dumbledore, Ron Weasley Bashing, Slytherin Hermione Granger, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-18
Updated: 2018-12-18
Packaged: 2019-09-22 05:12:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17053787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweetmusings/pseuds/sweetmusings
Summary: Albus Dumbledore is corrupt to the core, hellbent on making Wizarding Britain an unsafe place for those who favour the Dark or prefer to remain neutral in troubled times. Hermione has watched him turn those who fight for the Light into puppets for his own gain. Draco is just sick of his shit. Together they conspire to fight the darkness in the light and, in doing so, find each other.





	Obsidian Heart

**Author's Note:**

> I'm very thankful to PartyLines for beta-ing this story, she's been a great support to me while I've been writing this. Thank-you! Also a big thank you to Sapphire Snowflake for creating my artwork x.

  **Obsidian Heart**

This piece was written for the Strictly Dramione Group’s Yuletide Magic Fest. I own nothing from the wonderful world J.K Rowling created all those years ago.

My prompt: _Dark!!! Hermione is Slytherin and she helps Draco fight WITH the Dark Lord._

A/N: This contains relatively explicit scenes, BDSM, and character bashing. If any of this bothers you then please close this off and carry on about your day.

* * *

**November, 1996**

Hermione looked at her reflection in her mirror, making sure that her hair was tamed enough. Blast her curls. It might have calmed down since first year but it still had its days.

Satisfied, she ran her fingers through it, smiling. Casting a Tempus charm, the numbers seven-thirty-two came to life in a faint green; she had half an hour before breakfast. Choosing to stay seated at the foot of her four-poster bed - just for now - she closed her eyes.

Before she hardened her exterior and closed off her heart, she had once attempted to make friends with Potter and Weasley, only to be rejected with cruel slurs about her bloodline and her House.

 

**December, 1991**

_“Can I talk to you for a moment?” she asked the boys. “You see, I was wondering if-.” She stood facing them, her satchel dangling from her shoulder. She couldn’t hide the hope showing on her face, no matter how much she wanted to. Her hands shook but she refused to avert her eyes as she held out a hand towards the duo._

_There was a long pause where time had all but stopped._

_“Slimy snakes. Can’t trust them, my dad always says,” the freckled Weasley sneered in reply._

_That stung. Her hand twitched and fell._

_Hoping Potter might say something different than his friend, she didn’t look away. Hermione glimpsed a thoughtful expression on Potter’s face which got her hopes up, but unfortunately -_

_“I don’t want to speak to you - or be friends with you,” he started._

_She fidgeted as she waited to hear whatever else he had to say._

_“He-who-must-not-be-named came from Slytherin… Dumbledore told me. I don’t want anything to do with that house.”_

_Wide brown eyes met steady green ones and she felt a cold prickling sensation run down her back. Looking away from Potter, she glanced at Weasley, whose face was wrought with disdain._

_“I - I see. Right.” Tears pricked at her eyes as she turned and walked away. Quick paces. Trying to control her breathing. As she turned the nearest corner she broke into a run. Hermione didn’t want anyone to see her; she didn’t even realise she had tears rolling down her face until she came to a stop in an unused classroom, panting._

_Roughly pulling the door to, she dropped her satchel on the hard-stone floor and started pacing._

_How could they immediately assume she was wicked just because of where she was sorted? It was truly disgusting._

_Hermione stared angrily at the floor. She stalked over to the desks and fought the urge to kick the one closest to her. Her magic was crackling - making her hair move wildly. Her eyes darkened just a touch._

_The classroom was dark - no candles seemed to be lit - and it looked abandoned. Sitting down in a worn chair, she started to count the tiles._

_One. Two. A long pause. Fourteen, fifteen… On it went until she got herself somewhat calmed down._

_“...Granger?” a voice called out._

_Hermione was jolted out of her thoughts as she looked over to see a blonde-haired boy in the doorway. He blinked at her. She swiped at her eyes as she took in his features properly. Trying to regain a sense of calm she started reciting rare potions ingredients as she continued to look at him. Slicked-back blonde hair and the palest complexion, bright grey eyes... Wait. He looked familiar. Wracking her brain, she thought he might be that Malfoy boy._

_“I - I thought I would try and speak to Potter and the younger Weasley, Ron… I wanted to get to know them, but they were horrible to me! I’ve never seen anyone,” she hiccupped, “look at me like that before - like I’m some kind of - kind of criminal! As though I should just drop dead! It’s ridiculous!” She wailed._

_Hermione wasn’t sure where all of this was coming from but confiding in the boy felt right. She vented until she slid down against the stone floor in an un-ladylike manner._

_“Oh, those two,” Draco shook his head as he closed his eyes._

_“They’re known for their dislike of Slytherins, you know…” He continued, and Hermione listened to him as he carried on explaining about the Gryffindor-led vendetta against Slytherin. Draco walked over and sat down on the floor near her. If Hermione had not been in such a state, she would have gawked at the fact._

_“Despite what you may have heard since coming to Hogwarts, Granger, my family is are grey - with some leanings towards dark magic. I feel I can trust you, so you’ll be the first to know this: we don’t like the light’s ideals, so we are slowly aligning ourselves with Voldemort. We have no plans to get slaughtered like pigs, either.” He confessed, quietly._

_Shaking her head, she took in every word Draco confided in her. No, pigs they were not, nor were they evil, no matter what the Light thought._

_“If Potter is the saviour of this world then I don’t think I want it to be saved…” Hermione resisted the urge to cover her mouth with her hand after admitting that._

_She looked over at Draco again to see a small smirk forming on his face._  
_“... I think I’m starting to see what the sorting hat saw in you, Granger.” He stated._

_“Hermione. Please, call me Hermione.”_

_“Hermione,” Draco said softly, as though tasting a new piece of candy - tentatively; gently._

_“Draco Malfoy, not-a-pig Slytherin.” His grey eyes brightened in satisfaction._

_“Hermione Jean Granger. Not just a know-it-all-bookworm.” She smiled back._

_Draco decided there and then that he liked the bushy-haired girl’s smile._

_As if they hadn’t spent the past hour chatting like close friends, they nodded at each other and shook hands. That day changed the entire course of Hermione Granger’s life._

**November, 1996**

After that, Hermione spent more time with Draco at the Slytherin table for meals. As a result, she conversed more with people in her house and found true friends in the Greengrass sisters. Over time, she realised the attitude Parkinson displayed was a mask, and had found her to be a lovely girl. The two became fast friends and as the years progressed they had a solid friendship and loved each other like sisters.

 

**January, 1991**

_“Hermione, I need your opinion.” Pansy whispered hurriedly, holding a copy of Witch Weekly open._

_“Sure. What’s wrong?” Hermione inquired, looking from the other girl to the magazine in curiosity._

_“You see, mother and father have asked that I look at some new dresses and robes. They want me to have a nice selection of my choosing for when they start looking at suitable partners... Not that I want my partner chosen for me, but I won’t turn down the chance to have pretty dresses and cloaks. That’s where you come in Hermione,” Pansy started, leaning in as though they were discussing a secret plan._

_Hermione watched the other girl talk, wondering where this conversation was going. Then it clicked._

_“Pansy, are you... unsure what colours or styles to go for?” Hermione asked._

_“Um. Perhaps. Okay, yes. Just a bit, Hermione.” They glanced at each other and laughed; their drinks forgotten as they poured over the pages together._

_Feeling flattered that Pansy would come to her, she couldn’t help smiling. It’s nice to have friends, Hermione thought, as she felt a bubble of warmth inside. She’d found her home in Slytherin._

 

**December, 1993**

_Christmas of third year was fast approaching. A free period between Potions and Transfiguration found Hermione and Draco walking down the corridor._

_“Then Blaise ended up with glittery green hair for the rest of the day! We couldn’t stop laughing, it was hilarious. You’d have loved it, honestly Hermione-,” Draco’s story was interrupted by a shout._

_“_ Incendio _!_ Stupefy _!” Yelled a voice from behind them._

_“Draco, what -,” she started, her wand already out._

_“Look out!” Draco yelled, as he instinctively covered her, deflecting the spells with a Protego._

_The spells rebounded, hitting the nearest wall and scorching it._

_As Hermione whirled around to take in the damage she saw a flash of ginger hair in the corner of her eye. Weasley._ How wonderful…

_“Well, well. If it Isn’t the Slytherin Slut and the Death-Eater. Shame I missed, would’ve been something for the ages, that. Or better yet, an Avada. You all deserve to be put down-” Ron’s tirade was cut off by Severus walking around a corner, his eyes hard._

_“Is that so, Mr. Weasley?” He asked._

_Severus fought the urge to pinch his nose in thinly veiled rage._ Only in third year and he’s turning out like this. I ought to speak to Albus about this. Or better yet, Lucius. I doubt Albus will listen to my concerns… _He thought._

_“I’d like a reason as to why I should not go to the Headmaster right now. You know this school does not tolerate extremist views.” He prompted while moving a stray hair out of his eye._

_“But sir, they’re -.” Ron started, hatred in his voice._

_“Enough!” Severus snarled._

_“I saw the entire thing play out, Mr. Weasley. From what I saw, you attacked two innocent pupils.” He drawled._

_A pause lingered in the air and Ron’s face paled._

_“I thought so, Weasley. Your stupidity has lost you fifty points from Gryffindor and you only have yourself to blame!” He snarled again as he stared the boy down._

_“Weasley. I’ll be seeing you for the next two months in detention. Starting at seven PM. If you’re late... that’s another week of detentions on top.” His silky voice was quiet in the corridor but carried all the leverage it needed._

_Ron had nothing he could say to that as he shoved his wand in his back pocket. He muttered obscenities as he walked away. Draco only caught some words, but he knew they’d make his mother blush._

_Still holding Hermione’s arm from when he had covered her, Draco looked at her and leaned in._

_“If we’re lucky, he’ll burn off his buttocks. You should never place a wand in your back pocket you know.” Draco whispered to Hermione, who was trying, but failing, to hold her laughter in._

_Draco loved hearing her laugh. Suddenly realising how close she was stood to him, he blushed. Her eyes were bright with mirth and her cheeks were the same colour as his. Her mouth curled up sweetly in a smile that showed some of her teeth and… Wait, hang on. Did that mean he liked her? Aw, crap. He wasn’t much of a romantic, but Draco wondered if she felt the same way as he did. The idea wasn’t unpleasant._

_The questioning moment was interrupted by Severus who had failed to hold in his chuckle at Draco’s comment, his eyes showing pride for the pair before him._

_“Mr. Malfoy, your stance and spell work has greatly improved since your first year,” Severus started, nodding in approval._

_“Miss Granger. It is always essential to have your wand out as soon as you sense something is amiss. Well done. I’m awarding Slytherin thirty points.” He finished._

_“Thank you, Professor.” Hermione smiled._

_“No need, Miss Granger. Would you both like to join me in my quarters for a meal tonight?” Severus queried._

_Hermione looked over at Draco and they nodded._

_“That would be nice. There are some things we would like to talk to you about, as well.” Draco answered for them. Hermione nodded, a flash of worry was visible for a moment but then it was gone._

_Severus didn’t miss it however, making a mental note of the girl’s expression. Her mask might be solid but there were some cracks to be worked on still._

_“See you later, Professor Snape.” Hermione replied as they walked away._

_Draco was still holding her arm - neither of them minded._

 

**November, 1996**

Since fully embracing the darkness inside of her, Hermione felt at peace with herself. Her occlumency shield checks were interrupted by Draco walking out of the shower; towel tightly-wrapped around his hips.

Damn, it should be illegal for a man to look so good first thing in the morning, she grumbled internally as she took him in.

“Like something you see, love?” His face lit up with a predatory grin.

 

**March, 1994**

_One night in fourth year, they were pouring over research papers for their Ancient Runes essays when suddenly their hands touched._

_“Oh, sorry about that, Draco.” Hermione whispered as she shyly glanced at him._

_“Don’t be sorry, Hermione. In fact…”_

_There was a pause as they gazed at each other, and Hermione felt her heart speed up as Draco gently clasped the right side of her face and his eyes seemed to burn right into her soul, almost searching for permission. Her breath hitched as warmth rose in her cheeks. She nodded, and his eyes glinted. He moved closer, closer… closer. She could see his long lashes. His eyes weren’t just grey either: there were dark tones, some pale blues - it was like looking into a kaleidoscope. She felt breath on her lips._

Merlin.

_“You’re beautiful, you know.” Draco whispered softly as he kissed her._

_The whole world stopped as she felt his hand clasp the left side of her face; fingers running through her hair. He pulled her hair elastic off and her hair ran free._

_They parted for a moment and Draco gazed at her. “Please don’t tie your hair back, it looks better like this…” He whispered as he moved to hold her hand; thumb caressing hers. Her breath hitched and this time she was the one to kiss him._

_Oh my. Now she understood what she had been missing._

_All too soon Draco pulled away and again; gazed at her._

_“Granger, I’ve liked you for some time, and I am hoping you’d consider becoming mine?”_

_Wow. How could she possibly refuse? That kiss had been divine. She still felt as though she were away with the clouds. It was unusual to see a blush grace Draco’s face and Hermione found it endearing._

_“I think I will, Draco. Yes.” She grinned at him, happiness blossoming in her chest._

_Draco’s, too._

 

**November, 1996**

“Perhaps, perhaps, rumour has it...” Hermione smiled coyly at him.

Moments later they were cuddled up on their bed, Draco unfastening Hermione’s tie when she wagged her finger in his face. Draco pouted, and she smirked back at him in answer.

“No, Draco. We only have... Merlin. Ten minutes to get to the Great Hall. Honestly, you…” Draco shushed her by kissing her senseless; she felt as though electricity was coursing through her body. Draco’s attempts to distract her were met with a stinging hex to the hip.

“Ouch!” He pulled away sharply, still kneeling. He grasped his hip and pointed wildly.

“Merlin woman, you’re going to be the death of me!” He moaned dramatically.

“That’s for trying to ignore me before.” Her cheeks pinked as she half-heartedly glared at him.

“Granger, you wound me. I thought you loved me woman, but no, you go and hex me!” he rolled his eyes and pouted again, but his eyes were lit up. “That said, you know I like a woman with a bit of fight in her.” Draco smirked as he glanced at Hermione. She was biting her lip whilst looking at the erection prominent behind his towel.

“Should I just take this off then, love? Hmm? We can just call one of the elves and have breakfast here.” He asked.

She couldn’t help but giggle when he waggled his eyebrows and palmed his erection, his pupils dilated as he hungrily stared at her.

Hermione moaned softly as felt her body heat up and tried to come up with an excuse.

“Draco, the elves would be scarred for life. Do we really want that?”

He stalked closer. Not good. She could only back up so far, and then...

“We have curtains, remember Granger? You’re supposed to be the brightest witch of our age…” Draco’s voice trailed off into a taut silence.

With a flick of his wand the curtains closed tightly and a _muffliato_ charm was applied. He leant over her, staring intently. He finished unfastening her tie and ripped her uniform; buttons scattering.

Draco kissed her whilst gently massaging her breasts - the green silk tie in his reach. Grabbing it, he tied her wrists together as he ground his erection into her.

Hermione was stunned in her arousal; the soft silk tie had slid over her skin and she closed her eyes.

“Now you can’t get away, witch. You’ll see what happens when you sting me. I take good care of my skin, you know,” he finished.

Oh, she knew alright, he spent long periods in the shower using moisturisers and lotions to keep it soft.

She giggled, stopping only when she felt him bite her left nipple, hard.

Hermione screamed, moaning as Draco thrust his hand down her knickers, feeling her wetness.

“Aroused by this, Granger? Dirty little bitch…. You can bet that I’m going to be making you scream for me. I always get what I want and there’ll be no exceptions today.” He carried on gently rubbing her clit with his thumb as he inserted a finger inside her.

_The arrogant sod,_ she glared at him as he grasped her face, making her look at him.

She loved him, but sometimes she hated how easily he won these battles in the bedroom.

“Oh, I’m sure you will…” Hermione was silenced with a rough kiss, her tongue dancing for dominance with Draco’s. Soft mewls and moans filled the air. Wanting some kind of small victory over him, she bit his tongue. Hard.

Spitting the blood out and slapping her carefully, he glared. The warmth was gone from his eyes; he resembled a predator sizing up his prey.

“Oh, is that how we’re playing it Granger?” He hissed as he leant in close.

Despite enjoying being dominated, Hermione always became defiant; it was something Draco enjoyed immensely.

“You’re being punished for that.” Draco stopped touching her intimately and Hermione whined in protest, arching her lower half to try and get some friction. Draco laughed at her attempts as he flipped her onto her front; conjuring some black ropes and securing her ankles to the bed-posts. The rope hugged her skin sinfully tight - but didn’t chafe - the knots felt like a stark contrast in the best way; pressing into her skin delightfully. He untied her wrists, roughly massaging them before retying them behind her back. He might be a sadist, but he didn’t want his witch to have any circulation complications.

When he was done, he smirked down at Hermione - he couldn’t resist palming her curves and pinching her arse - pumping his cock with his hand as he did so.

Spank. A moan.

Spank.

_Whack._

On the third spank, she screamed. _Perfect._ He loved hearing her cry out, almost as much as he enjoyed muffling her. Grabbing her underwear from where they’d landed, he shoved them in her mouth and moved her hair away from her left ear.

“This is only a warm up, Granger…You’ll be thankful I gagged you when I’m through with you.” He bit her neck rough enough to draw blood and licked the puncture marks. Hermione hissed in pain herself but moaned as his tongue swiped over the wound. She felt her cunt grow wetter.

“Mmmph-mmfh.” Hermione moaned.

He went back to spanking her, each slap leaving her cheeks sensitive and tingly.

“What was that Granger? I can’t understand you when your mouth is stuffed.”

“Mmph-mu.”

“Hmm, want you? Fuck you? Oh. Why didn’t you say, Princess? I will do, soon. But your punishment Isn’t over yet… For now however - your mouth, yes. Would you prefer it stuffed with my cock, instead?” Draco asked, his voice husky.

Not waiting for an answer, he gave her twenty more of the best slaps and proceeded to move around on the bed so that he was looking down at her tear stained face. Pulling the underwear out of her mouth, he continued to survey his witch. He noted with satisfaction that her cheeks were a bright red.

Cupping Hermione’s cheek with his hands, he roughly pulled her face up so she was looking straight at him. Gods, she’s beautiful when she cries, Draco thought.

Blinking her tears away, Hermione continued to stare at Draco, her eyes dilated with lust. Wriggling forwards ever so slightly she started to take him into her mouth. As Draco established a steady rhythm, he twined one hand in Hermione’s hair. Conjuring a leather riding crop and grinning down at her, he rhythmically tapped her cheeks, with varying degrees of intensity. He particularly enjoyed tapping the area where her buttocks met her thighs; her moans were so sweet. Her throat constricted around his cock on every thwack of the riding crop.

“Such a good girl, Granger. Can never get enough of you… Good girl…” He moaned as he pulled out, moved again and positioned himself behind her.

Hermione couldn’t even pout as the underwear had been shoved back in her mouth; she could only moan as Draco filled her cunt with his cock.

Moans, whimpers and low groans filled the air.

“Nh. Like that, do you Granger? Huh? Better not think of trying to deny it, I know you do. Your body is so hot, - needy - and honest.” He fought the urge to speed up.

He might be a sadist but he wanted her to enjoy this too.

Slap. Slap. Thwack. _Whack._

“Mmh!” Hermione couldn’t help but cry out.

Draco alternated between using his leather riding crop and his hands to leave his mark on Hermione, whose cheeks were now a deep shade of red. If he squinted, he could even make out some purple bruises forming. They reminded him of constellations.

He couldn’t resist pausing - grabbing her ponytail with his left hand and pulling, hard. With his other hand he left deep scratches running down her back, her cheeks, her thighs.

Wonderful. He licked his lips as he resumed thrusting into her, causing Hermione’s walls to contract around him as she came with a loud, albeit muffled, scream. This resulted in Draco being driven over the edge himself - he came with a low groan, filling her.

Pulling out and grabbing his pocket-knife =, he released the blade and pressed it against her sore cheeks. The reaction was instantaneous; she arched her back, still quivering.

“I’m going to mark you now, Princess.” Draco drawled, feeling incredibly smug.

His witch whimpered.

Hermione was still lost in a sluggish haze, but she felt hyper aware when she heard the click of Draco’s knife. Merlin.

Starting slowly, Draco carved a rune into the back of Hermione’s left shoulder.

As she felt the knife slice her flesh tantalisingly slowly, she shuddered in the confines of her ropes. The point of the blade went down and then moved in a curve; various directions followed, warping her senses.

She loved it when Draco was like this; so unapologetically possessive.  
‘  
The shape of the rune and its meaning floated to the front of her mind amongst the pain.

_Mine_.

Spank.

Spank.

Another loud thwack.

More spanks followed, varying in intensity.

Blood ran down Hermione’s back. Her arse felt like it was on fire, and it felt like there was more blood than there was. Lost in a rush of endorphins, she could only lie there and moan occasionally.

When the rune was complete, Draco rubbed Hermione’s other shoulder lovingly as she cried out her release.

Grabbing his blanket and some chocolate, Draco banished the underwear and the rope, making sure to remove the tie. He was pleased to note a lack of red marks on her wrists and ankles.

Casting a quick scourgify on them both, he scooped Hermione into his arms, wrapping her in their silver and green blanket. Stroking her hair as he held a bottle of water to her lips, he smiled at her.

“You did so well for me, I’m so proud of you.” Draco whispered as he held her close.

“Mmm. Thank you, Draco, I needed that,” she started as she snuggled into him, breathing him in as she nuzzled his neck.

“I love you.” She said softly.

“As I love you,” finished Draco.

Hands linked, the temptation to fall asleep was strong, but Hermione managed to stay awake.

“Chocolate, love?” Offered Draco, who was holding a piece out to her.

“Please.”

Fifteen minutes passed, and she felt much better.

“So, about that breakfast-in-bed….” Said Draco, who hastily cast _reparo_ on Hermione’s uniform.

Hermione rolled her eyes at Draco as she re-dressed. ‘’No, Draco. No house-elves and no breakfast-in-bed. We can’t skip, especially if we want to put on a good act.’’

Draco sighed but he had to agree - his witch made a good point. In theory there would be no problem with skipping breakfast on occasion, but one could not be too careful. Dumbledore, despite his hatred for them, had given them prefect status this year. Draco was all too happy to take advantage whilst Hermione was suspicious and was convinced Dumbledore was keeping tabs somehow. Draco’s father had sent him a prohibited book on wards recently and had been able to seamlessly counter any which were set previously.

“What are you thinking about, Draco? You look like the cat that got the cream.” Hermione asked as she draped her arms over his shoulders, snuggling into him.

“Oh, just about the wards again.” He replied.

Humming in agreement, Hermione set about her morning routine of checking her Occlumency shields.

 

**Late December, 1991**

_After one Potions lesson Draco and Hermione had confided in Severus about the events a month prior. He’d sighed and looked them over, seeing the worry in both of their faces. Taking a few moments to weigh his choices, he decided to confess some things to the duo._

_He told them of how Albus Dumbledore was the leader of a secret organisation known as the Order of the Phoenix, determined to eliminate as many Dark witches and wizards as was possible._

_As a result, it was not a shock to the pair when Severus confided in them that Dumbledore was also an accomplished Legilimens, as well as an Occlumens. This meant that while he might come across as formidable, he did have his faults. He relied too heavily on his mental skills and was known for letting his guard down in the face of his supposed faultless plans and ideals._

_Hermione was horrified to learn that Dumbledore was not above using Legilimency on pupils to achieve his goals. Fortunately for the pair, Severus offered to teach them both Occlumency and Legilimency a few nights a week._

_They could tell that the lessons were paying off. On many occasions Dumbledore had tried forcing his way into their minds - only to be thrown out - leaving him feeling disorientated and livid. He’d been so thrown off by this that he hadn’t bothered with anyone else._

_Good, it served the old fool right, Severus thought snidely as Dumbledore stalked from his half-eaten breakfast one morning in the Great Hall._

 

**December, 1996**

They had to do everything they could to keep suspicion off their back. Sadly, that meant no lounging away their morning. He would bet his vault that a small absence during breakfast would be okay, however.

They were only fifteen minutes late. Thank Merlin for that.

Draco could not wait for the day to come where they could live freely without consequence; he was quite sure that his witch felt the same way. Any life without Dumbledore in would ensure safety for them and other ostracized families too.

Recently, they discovered that the old fool was the driving force for the Weasley’s and Potter’s hatred of all things dark. Even better had to be that Minerva, The Lupins and most of the Hogwarts teaching faculty were in line with him.

What a load of shite. Hermione and Draco knew that magic had no 'sides', it simply boiled down to intent. The opposing sides and neutrality were just labels shoved on Wizarding Britain by the Ministry of Magic a decade into its establishment to reign in the declining reputation of the country.

The previous laws had been lax but effective however Dumbledore used his influence to gain a meeting with Fudge in order to increase their severity.

The updated proposal served to glorify all forms of light magic, neutrality was opposed and dark magics were illegalized. Fudge happily lapped up these suggestions; Dumbledore’s softly whispered promises of a better tomorrow meant he had fallen into the man’s pocket. Dumbledore had gained another puppet.

Fudge didn’t spare a moment’s thought of the consequences any dark family would face. He had, of course, approved everything. Dumbledore was ruthless with his words and ideals. The means used to create a better Wizarding Britain were increasingly severe, as well as dastardly. Careless obliviation, parents losing their children and life sentences in Azkaban were the top three most popular choices.

Hermione and Draco were known among their House for their wondrous arguments, but they whole-heartedly agreed when it came to The Order of the Phoenix. Its members followed Dumbledore like lost puppies and blindly approved of his machinations - as a result they were just as evil and fucked up as they claimed the so called Dark Lord and his followers to be.

It was vile; barbaric. Draco and Hermione hoped to come up with a fitting plan soon, but they knew they needed to bide their time.

 

**April, 1994**

_Severus had slowly integrated the Dark Arts alongside their studies. He had a spare room in his quarters which he utilised for practising his spell work. He always made sure to weave high level wards which would prevent magic detection and unauthorised entry._

_This meant that Severus could delve deep into the subject of Dark Magic and its arts; no content was off limits, and this had the bonus of his pupils meeting their magical potential earlier than the average witch or wizard would - thus they reached a high level of contentment neither had thought possible._

_Unfortunately, this came with the discovery that Dumbledore had bound Draco and Hermione’s magics. Severus came across them after using his staff status to break into the shared bedroom; witch and wizard tangled together and delirious with fever._

_To say that Severus was livid would have been an understatement. He was boiling with rage when he saw them. He hadn’t been able to go to Madame Pomfrey for fear Dumbledore might find out somehow, so he monitored their magic levels himself._

_After a few days in Severus’ quarters, they woke up and were furious to discover the extent of Dumbledore’s actions._

_There were some benefits to the undoing of their bound cores however the anger toward Dumbledore remained._

_The most notable changes for Draco were his increased build and height, and a black dragon crest that appeared below his left clavicle. Hermione’s hair was now a lighter brown with streaks of black. Her eyes were a golden honey rather than dark brown and she shared the same crest as Draco except hers was red and situated on the back of her neck._

_After the shock of their physical manifestations wore off, the pair often joked that their crests were a reference to their relationship as dragons loved to keep their treasures close. Severus taught them how to apply glamour charms that even the strongest_ finite incantatem _would not be able to counter._

_They were now filled with pure hatred; determination to kill the bastard who weakened them now ran through their veins tenfold._

 

**December, 1996**

Draco and Hermione seated themselves in the Great Hall, studiously ignoring knowing looks from their friends and helping each other to some food.

“So that’s why you were late for breakfast huh?” Asked Pansy, grinning as she noted a love-bite peeking out of Hermione’s collar.

“Ah, you caught me.” Hermione blushed, applying a subtle glamour charm on the bruise.

“Draco, this came for you in the post.” Blaise held out a thick envelope with the Malfoy family crest seal on the back.

“Oh right, Thanks Blaise.”

“No problem, mate. Have fun this morning, then?” Blaise waggled his eyebrows.

“I don’t know what you mean…” Draco deferred smartly as he read the contents of his letter. Laughing, Blaise turned away and grabbed a drink.

Discreetly gazing over at Draco whilst nibbling on some toast, Hermione wondered who the letter was from until Draco pressed the parchment into her free hand. Glancing down at the rich parchment - toast forgotten - Hermione’s face gave nothing away but her mind was whirling excitedly.

_Draco,_

_I require your presence at home. It is a matter of the utmost importance._

_I have included a portkey which will activate at 10pm this evening._

_Bring her with you, Son._

_Lucius._

_Short and to the point, that was Lucius alright._ Hermione thought as she bit her lower lip, wondering if there might be an issue. Hermione discreetly swished her wand and the letter’s contents changed to nothing of question. Perfect.

There seemed to be a plan afoot that looked to be moving forward quickly. The possibilities whirled around in both Hermione and Draco’s minds.

Everyone had believed that due to Hermione’s background, she’d never be accepted by Draco’s parents. They had no idea that his parents had taken her under their wing and cared for her like the daughter they never had. It wasn’t that Hermione had a terrible childhood, but they saw her need to be looked after in the magical world as well. They had her take Pureblood history and etiquette lessons to turn her into the perfect magical partner for their son.

 

**Malfoy Manor, 1996**

Lucius had nearly fallen prey to his father’s teachings about Mudbloods and lesser beings, but he chose to stick fast to his own beliefs, knowing deep down he was doing the right thing. Looking over at Draco and his lady as they appeared in the living room with a soft whoosh, he knew he had done right by his family to take his life into his own hands.

“Father, Mother.” Draco nodded in greeting, his arm wrapped around Hermione’s waist.

“Draco, Hermione, thank you for coming”, replied Lucius, insistent as always with formalities.

“It’s always a pleasure to see you both, I trust you are well?” Narcissa enquired gently, approaching them both for a hug.

“Yes, thank you, are you, Mother?” replied Draco whilst Hermione smiled at Narcissa.

“I’m doing well, thank you Narcissa.” she replied in turn.

“Quite, yes love,” Narcissa answered softly.

Motioning to the sofas, Lucius ushered them over.

“Mupsy!” he barked.

“Yes, Master?” asked Mupsy, her ears quivering.

“What have I told you about that Mupsy? There’s no need to quiver. I would appreciate a bottle of Ogden’s Finest please, plus food for four. Thank you,” he replied.

“Sorry Master, Yes Master!” The elf went away briefly. Seconds later, she re-appeared and clicked her fingers - four glasses and various foods popping into life on the oak-wood table, along with a nice warm bottle of Ogden’s.

“Ahh. That’s the ticket. Thank you Mupsy, you may go.” With a nod, Mupsy disappeared.

Turning to the couple opposite him, his hand gently grasping Narcissa’s, he took a sip of his Ogden’s.

“I’m sure you’re both curious as to why I mailed you with relative urgency. We received a message from our Lord, he’s agreed to take you on as his proteges.”

Hermione’s eyes glinted, and a devious smirk formed on Draco’s face as he leaned into her, keeping his eyes on his mother and father.

“We’re very proud to be able to pass this on to you both, and we imagine that you both feel the same way, yes?”

“Of course,” Hermione replied, whilst Draco nodded - his face now a cool mask.

Hermione was ecstatic; she had to really focus to make sure she kept herself under control. If Severus had taught her anything alongside her Occlumency, it was to keep a cool, focussed head always. Even before sleeping, she was to meditate and go through her shields. She’d learned to do anything to protect her mind and thoughts, and now it had become second nature; an automatic part of her day.

“Narcissa, Lucius, I am incredibly thankful to the pair of you for taking me on and teaching me your customs and pure blood etiquette. It means a lot to me, and I am again thankful for you both passing on information about me to our Lord. Since learning of the Wizarding World, I have noticed nothing but errors with the way it is run. It is such a dystopian, messed up piece of shite. The rules and regulations shaping this world are farcical and need to be changed. I want nothing more than to align myself with our Lord - alongside Draco - and repay everyone wronged by making this world a better place.

They listened to Hermione’s passionate speech, and they were nothing but proud of her.

“Well, well, well. I couldn’t be more… pleased with this confession, my new protege… and ah yesss, Draco. Wonderful, wonderful.…” A voice emerged from the shadows and Hermione looked up in shock, not expecting her Lord to be there.

She immediately knelt in front of Voldemort, who laughed softly. His laughter would have sent chills through the average person, however Hermione felt on an equal level with Voldemort regarding their stance on the Wizarding World, so she felt no fear. It sent a thrill down her spine, and she looked up at him.

“Child, there is no need for such formalities, I only ask that of my followers in public settings,” he looked down at her slightly reddened face, his bright red eyes alight with contentment.

Hermione resisted the urge to glare at Voldemort for his calling her a child, but closed her eyes briefly and nodded.

“Yes, my Lord. Thank you, my Lord,” she replied.

“Please, let’s do away with the titles, they remind me far too much of Bella, whom I have come to find an irritance over the years. Her sssssimpering is most... tedious... You may call me Tom, Hermione. That goes for you as well, Draco.” As he finished speaking - his speech peppered with hisses - his features subtly changed. Soft brown hair came into view, giving him a dishevelled yet groomed appearance. He looked less skeletal as his body became slightly thicker built. Red eyes turned to honey brown, pasty skin became a warm, flesh tone. Tom grinned.

Hermione couldn’t wait to exact vengeance on everyone who had scorned and shunned her; she had a pretty good idea as to who she’d start with once her training under Tom ended.

She and Draco’s combined skills and powers were sure to wreak havoc over Dumbledore and his sheep - she could feel it.

 

**December, 1991**

_Draco sat with Hermione for some time in the classroom - he didn’t recall moving so close to her, but there he was. Words kept spilling out of his mouth, as though the girl next to him was swallowing them up. He briefly hesitated on whether he should even be telling her all this, but his instinct told him to bare all. On a base level he knew she would believe what he had to say._

_Keeping his eyes fixated on a desk across the room, he fidgeted with the strap on his satchel. “A few years ago, my father came home from work one late evening and asked me go to the tea room. He got us some drinks and sat down… You see, this isn’t easy for me, but I feel I can tell you this. I don’t know why, Granger. Anyway. My father - he told us that he was leaving work, but he had forgotten some important work files. So, he went back. He overheard Weasley’s dad talking to a friend about their family’s hatred for us for what we do. It grew, and now they believe anyone sorted into Slytherin should just - be killed...”_  
_He finished lamely, still fidgeting with his bag strap._

_Hermione’s eyes remained wide, unsure of what to say for a moment._

_“Draco - ”_

_“That’s why I hate the Weasley’s. None of them are good. We may be a grey family, but we do not hate families because of where they come from or what they do.”_

_“Draco! I - Whatever you want to do. I’ll help you.” Hermione grabbed his arm and looked at him, as though she were trying to find something in his eyes._

_“I’ll help you.” She stated again, her voice firm with resolve._

 

**February, 1998**

Draco and Hermione never returned to Hogwarts for their seventh year, instead deciding to stay with Tom and learn under him directly.

Initially, Hermione wondered if this was the best choice as far as education was concerned but then she realised that Tom had an even bigger library than Hogwarts could ever dream to have. It won her over in a heartbeat.

_As the pair stood on the balcony on the Astronomy Tower for the last time, Draco put his arm around Hermione and she leaned into him contentedly._

_“Draco, do you think that we are making the right choice in all of this?” She had whispered._

_“I don’t regret a thing love, but the most important question here is, do you?”_

_“No, no... I don’t think I do, Draco. I still feel the same way I did back in first year, except I feel more certain in that.” She nuzzled his shoulder and paused._

_“I also cannot forgive that sod for blocking our magic, obviously hoping we’d never find out. Honestly.”_

_“I know, love. The day will soon come when he realises just what kind of mistake he made. When he gets wiped out along with the rest of that shitty Order -.”_

_“He’ll regret the day he implemented those laws.” Hermione seethed._

_“Love, I am quite sure his death is already marked.” Draco smiled darkly as he glanced at her._

_“Most likely. Thank you, Draco, for always being there for me.”_

_“I will follow you anywhere, even to the depths of hell.” He whispered softly._

_Hermione kissed him._

_“We’ll leave at midnight, then. Is that okay with you?”_

_“Of course.”_

 

**Hogwarts, 1998**

The morning following their departure was quiet. That evening during meals however, Minerva got up from the heads table and leant over by Albus.

“Headmaster, Malfoy and Granger are nowhere to be seen. Their friends haven’t seen them since curfew.” She stated softly.

“Perhaps... they are simply being lax today, Headmaster?” Queried Severus, not wanting to think much about the possible meaning of his question. Dumbledore stroked his beard thoughtfully.

“I am sure it is nothing to worry about, but thank you for informing me, Minerva. The wards will inform me if anything is amiss, after all.”

Albus didn’t know how wrong he was. Once he realised the consequences of his actions, it would be too late for the Wizarding World as he knew it.

 

**May, 1998**

Training was progressing smoothly for both Hermione and Draco. Tom had had them doing various drills, pushing them to their limits physically, mentally, and emotionally. He taught them effective interrogation techniques, followed by ways to make captives break and exploit any and all cracks. Just when Hermione and Draco thought they had learned all they had needed to, more was thrust at them. Fights with conjured Inferi, one-on-one plus group battles with various accomplices; on some occasions Tom even had them fight each other.

“I’m to duel Draco, Tom?”

“Not duel. Fight. Now, away with the looks if you will. If you both want to become truly ruthless in the cusp of battle, you need to shut off all emotional attachment. I thought the best way to start would be with the two of you battling each other. I will have Severus on hand, along with our most valued healer: Smyth. Smyth!” Tom called. He had tried to do away with the hissing, but it was now an irreversible habit; almost ingrained after many years of usage.

A young cloaked man appeared from the shadows, appraising the scene before him. He nodded in approval.

“I will give you one minute to prepare. In time, expect this time to lessen as you’ll never know what can happen in any kind of battle!” Tom stepped back until his back softly met the wall. He relaxed, watching the pair prepare.

Watching them get into a perfect, fluid-like stance, Tom turned to Severus briefly.

“They’ve come far, haven’t they, Severus?” He hissed, pride evident in his tone.

As Draco and Hermione’s spells toward one another became increasingly erratic - the floor, ceiling and walls peppered with burn marks and chunks of rock - Severus couldn’t help but agree.

“Indeed, my lord.”

Tom’s right eye twitched and he felt the start of a migraine come on. Again.

“How many times must I ask you call me Tom, Severus? He asked, as the duel carried on.

After an hour there was no clear winner, although the pair were starting to show signs of exertion. Tom blew into the chrome whistle hung around his neck - clapping approvingly as they came to a stop - and looked over questioningly.

“My two proteges…. You are doing me very proud. Soon we will be able to take on the old fart and his sheep… You may go and rest for the remainder of today!” Tom smiled; it was rare and genuine. His eyes were lit up with satisfaction at their progress.

“Yes, Tom.” Draco replied calmly while Hermione looked straight at their leader, a look of pure bloodlust on her face. Tom and Severus had identical expressions of grim pleasure on theirs.

As they walked to their chambers, Draco couldn’t help but yank Hermione close to him. Pressing her against a wall, he leant in and Hermione felt his breath ghost her ear.

“Merlin, Hermione. I can’t wait to fuck you later, all of that dark magic usage has me riled up.”

A dark, feminine laugh echoed through the halls, successfully raising the hairs on Severus’ neck.

Tom turned to Severus again and met his gaze.

“Do I even want to know?” Asked Severus.

“No, I don’t think you do…” Answered Tom, an uncharacteristic shudder running through him.

As soon as Draco and Hermione arrived at their chambers, Draco slammed the door shut and immediately pinned Hermione to the nearest wall, one hand cupping her face.

“Did you really think all of that was necessary, witch? A shattering hex to the leg?” He growled impatiently, his face stern.

“I wanted to try it out. I knew you’d be able to dodge it any -.” Hermione was cut off as Draco gripped her throat, lightly squeezing.

“Not. The. Point. Why that hex?” He demanded, applying more pressure.

“Because we have to be - ruthless” Hermione gasped as she felt the increased pressure.

“Ah yes. You like things to be ruthless. I should have remembered,” he stated as he yanked her hair and roughly kissed her.

“Well, I don’t think you’ll mind if I’m that way with you tonight then?” He asked, his face warped with a sadistic smirk.

Hermione laughed, grinning at the man before her. His muscles weren’t heavily defined but added to his rugged masculinity and his deep grey eyes were focused solely on her. She gulped as she stared at him; as she saw them narrow a fraction.

“I don’t think you’ll be laughing when I fuck you into the covers of our bed, witch. Honestly…” he trailed off, obviously wondering where to begin.

“Who says I’ll be letting you fuck me into the covers, Draco? In fact -.” Hermione was cut off by the sound of Apparation. She immediately whirled around only to see Mupsy in the centre of the boudoir, wrangling her ears, looking extremely aggravated.

“Young Mistress and Young Master! Please quickly come! Elder Mistress is hurts! Oh, It’s terrible!” Mupsy looked up, tears pooling in her large eyes.

Draco walked over to Mupsy and knelt down, putting one hand on her small shoulder. Mupsy jumped before managing to calm herself.

“Mupsy,” Draco started, making sure to keep his voice low so as not to scare his house-elf. “What happened; how did Mother get hurt? Did you see anyone who looked suspicious?” He asked, maintaining eye contact with her. His heart was pounding and he felt blood pumping fast through his body with anger. He needed answers, though.

Hermione was worried sick at the exchange. Calm. Keep calm. Everything will be fine, she kept telling herself, trying to keep relaxed.

“I’s was bringing food to Elder Master and Elder Mistress - she had a drink of some wine - Mistress moved funny and f-fell! She - Elder Mistress is hurts! What if she is dead!” Mupsy could not take it anymore and wailed. It was a saddening sound and Draco made eye contact with Hermione, their faces wide with shock.

“I - thank you for informing me. Please go back to the Manor and tell Father I will come by as soon as I inform Tom.” Draco said, his voice hard with anger and worry.

Mupsy popped away.

Hermione rushed to Draco. “...Do you think this is down to them?” She hesitantly asked.

“I do. Never in my life has wine resulted in Mother collapsing. I think someone sabotaged her monthly wine order. You know how she loves to throw those galas? Someone wants her gone. Probably to cripple us and maybe land an attack on our side too. It is what I would do if I were planning something like this. Nothing else fits - the Order must have been involved somehow.” Draco finished speaking, his voice low.

“I swear if Mother dies thanks to this, I’ll kill them. Every last one of them. They’ll all know pain when I’m through with them!” He screamed, reaching for the glass vase adorning their bedside, wanting to hear it smash. It would be so satisfying.

“- aco! Draco! Listen to me!” Yelled Hermione, hugging him tight from behind.

“You aren’t alone. You have me. And we, we have Tom, Severus, our comrades and others. We’ll defeat them. Together. They’ll know pain like nothing else.” Hermione finished, burying her head in Draco’s nape.

Hermione had come to love Narcissa a great deal; she felt as infuriated as Draco. Narcissa had been there for her in ways that her own mother hadn’t been able to: she’d let Hermione cry on her shoulder, taught her some of the most prized Black and Malfoy family recipes, made her feel truly welcome in the Wizarding World. Most importantly she’d made her feel loved. She couldn’t bear the thought of Narcissa dying; she needed to be strong. She needed to put on her mask and block any negativity out.

She and Draco sat on the edge of their beds in silent companionship. They both needed a bit of silence to reflect and think.

In the dark stormy clouds, a lone Phoenix was flying, determined to get to its destination. Fawkes had had enough of Dumbledore’s deceit and manipulative approaches; he decided that he wouldn’t let himself be tied to that man any further. It was true that he could have apparated in a flurry of golden flames, but he had emotions to purge so he flew onwards. Tears ran down his face with the flap of each wing.

 

**One week later**

Hermione and Draco had asked for Tom’s blunt opinion on whether he had thought them ready for battle. After the events of Narcissa’s poisoning they didn’t want to waste any more time. Tom understood this, however, he knew they still had a little longer to go before they were ready.

Tom sighed and looked at the pair.

“Both of you have not quite… reached that point just yet. You’ve progressed extremely well… there’s just a few more things to learn… I estimate that in another month you’ll both-”

“My Mother has died thanks to the bastard Order, and you want me to idly sit by for a MONTH?!” Draco cut Tom off; his eyes narrowed in anger.

Tom’s eyes flashed red and he slammed his hands on the table separating the trio.

“I anticipated this would happen. Before you rudely interrupted me - and be thankful you’re one of my protégés because you’d be writhing on the floor under a crucio otherwise - I have an alternative! Now be quiet and listen while I have my say!” Tom snarled.

Red faced, Draco heeded Tom’s words and sat back down, resting his head on his clasped hands. He felt briefly at peace as he noticed Hermione had her arm around his shoulder.

_Hermione. Tom’s words. Right, focus._ He thought it as though it were a mantra.

“Thank you, Draco. I can have you both ready and fully-fledged assassins for our side in two weeks. In that time, I will be teaching you. I’ll bring in some of the best dark magic practitioners – we’ll have you training several hours a day until your bodies are honed for battle. Between your learning we’ll also be working out an attack strategy on the Order. If we defeat them, it’s likely we can take over the Ministry. Is this… agreeable?” Tom asked, with a sarcastic lilt.

Draco leant in and offered his hand for Tom to shake. He was able to hold his serious face for a few seconds before breaking into a grin  
.  
“It’s a perfect idea Tom. Thank you. We’ll do you proud.” He nodded, mulling over all the possibilities their lessons could bring.

They didn’t notice the bright orange Phoenix perched contentedly at the top of Tom’s custom-made throne.

 

**Two weeks later**

The remainder of the training went spectacularly well; Draco and Hermione’s combined spite and determination spurred their efforts. Hermione’s wit aided Tom with the blueprint and plan generating, and her observations of people in the Order helped immensely in creating a detailed schedule of their daily comings and goings.

They were ready.

 

**Later that night**

Draco and Hermione arrived at Hogwarts and walked straight through the gates. Their expressions were a terrifying mix of hatred and bloodlust. Once they got to the double doors of the Great Hall, they stopped for a moment.

“Ready, love?” Draco asked Hermione, his mouth warped in a dark smile.

“Always, Draco.” She answered, knowing it was true.

They used sheer magical power to burst open the doors, which flew off in different directions. The breeze generated by the flying doors extinguished all the candles lighting the room. There was silence for a moment and then chaos erupted - screams and the sound of crying carrying across the hall. Glancing about to make sure no children were hurt, Hermione cast some impenetrable shield and repellent charms covering the student body - they were only there for the teachers after all.

“Oh… Miss Granger, Mr. Malfoy, to what do I owe the pleasure? We were wondering what had happened to the two of you after you dissa-” Dumbledore asked, pathetically attempting to placate the couple.

Draco felt a push at his mental shields and he shoved with all his might; pushing Dumbledore out and leaving the man with a crippling migraine. He fell to the floor kneeling as he clutched his head.

“That’s what you get for trying to read my mind again old fool. Please don’t try the good grandfather act, it doesn’t become you Albus.” Draco sneered, looking down on the old headmaster.

“That’s preposterous-” Dumbledore started.

“Save it, Dumbledore. We don’t need any more of your lies. The only pleasure we’ll take tonight is the looks on your faces when we take our revenge. You see, we found out about the blocks you placed on our magics. Oh, and we know you were the one who orchestrated my mother’s death, so don’t even try to deny it,” Draco continued, his voice low but carrying clearly.

Dumbledore paled, and his expression was reminiscent of a fish out of water. Hermione stepped forward and glared daggers at him, the man clearly wasn’t backing down.

“If you think this is an opportunity to capture us and kill us, that won’t be happening.” said Hermione.

With a flick of her hand, black manacles appeared and shot toward the aged wizard. He was forced to his knees and hogtied, glaring at her.

“You won’t get away with this you vile witch! I did this all for the greater good! People like you are disgusting and should die.” Dumbledore shouted, his skin a bright red from anger.

“We won’t, will we? From what I can see, we don’t even need to kill you! You sealed your own fate old man! Look at these students around you - do they seem happy?” Draco asked, whilst Hermione laughed. It was a rather scary sound and reverberated throughout the room.

Students looked terrified, but the revelations had shifted their fear and it was neither Draco nor Hermione who frightened them.

“If we’d known this was all we had to do, we might have come back months ago, right love?” Hermione asked, looking over at Draco.

“Oh, definitely.” He answered.

Draco stood by and watched at Hermione summoned a Patronus and sent it to the Aurors. She left a sheet of parchment magically bound to Dumbledore’s head. Smirking, she lowered her hand and reached for Draco.

“Let’s go, darling.” Hermione whispered, smiling as they started to walk away.

Draco was dumbfounded and looked at a loss.

“But Hermione, what happened to -.” He asked, but was cut off.

“The parchment had questions for the Aurors to ask Dumbledore. It can’t be removed until everything on there is spoken out loud. As I touched Dumbledore’s skin to bind the sheet I think a… certain truth-serum may have been absorbed into his bloodstream? It’s a special version Severus made and it lasts twelve hours!” Hermione giggled.

_This is the witch I’m marrying. Wow_. Thought Draco, who was fighting the urge to laugh himself.

Dumbledore was ill with dread. His familiar had abandoned him, and no one could release him from these restraints. He was well and truly screwed.

“Bye-bye Dumbledore, I hope you enjoy Azkaban without parole!” Hermione grinned, waving at him and his livid staff. Hermione’s charm held them in place, too.

Draco discreetly flicked his hand and Dumbledore felt a weird tingle in his abdomen, but due to the migraine he was suffering from, he gave it little thought. Draco slipped an arm around Hermione as they walked out of Hogwarts, opting to keep silent.

“I think that went extremely well, love. Don’t you?” Draco asked.

“I do, yes…” Answered Hermione, planting a kiss on Draco’s cheek.

 

**Three months later**

“Good morning Draco.” Hermione smiled as she did her morning stretches.

“Morning Hermione, did you sleep well?” Asked Draco, eyeing the Daily Prophet on the table before him.

_Last night, the good-turned-bad wizard Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore was found dead in his cell at Azkaban Prison. A post-mortem reveals it was due to multiple organ failure. He’d been sentenced as a result of abusing his power as a Hogwarts, manipulating multiple families through blackmail, embezzling Mr. Potter out of thousands of Galleons during the war effort, and mistreating multiple students - most notably Mr. Draco Malfoy and Mrs. Hermione Granger-Malfoy, whose magics he bound at a young age. Fortunately, they were able to overcome this. For their profiles, please go to pages 4-6. For a summary of Albus Dumbledore please go to page 41…_


End file.
